Itâs a little after 8 pm and Iâm lost in my book when the doorbell rings.
âSweetie, can you get that?â my mother yells. Iâm already on my way to the door though, knowing the drill.
I donât know who to expect at this hour so I peek through the spy hole in the door. When I recognize Elija, my heart starts racing. I take a deep breath before opening the door and slipping outside.
âHey, what are you doing here?â I ask him in a hushed voice. Not sure my parents would appreciate me being visited by a guy this late.
âI- my brother- Home was too loud. Is this a bad time?â he says. Taking a closer look at him, I realize he looks a bit unlike himself. His eyes seem red and tired and his hair messier than usual. Has he been crying?
Iâm almost tempted to ask him why he didnât go to his girlfriend but I canât bring myself to do it when he looks like a lost puppy.
âNo, of course not. My parents are home though so maybe come in through the window?â I ask quietly. What am I doing? If I get caught, Iâll be in so much trouble.
Elija smiles weakly at me, clouding my judgment further. I give him directions before going back inside my house.
âWho was it?â my dad asks.
âA friend of Mila. You know how they always switch up our houses so I gave her directions,â I tell him, throwing my neighbor under the bus. Sheâs a girl two years older than me and to be fair, her friends often do mistake our home for hers.
I finish up my conversation with my parents and head into my room. There, I open my window to see Elija already waiting. Itâs a good day to live on the ground level.
Elija climbs inside, quickly taking off his shoes while apologizing. I tell him not to worry about it.
âSo, want to talk about what happened?â I ask after weâve both sat down on my bed. Iâm whispering while music is playing in the background but Iâve locked my door just in case.
âNot really,â Elija tells me. Then he crawls further on my bed and gets comfortable. When he notices the book I was reading before he came, he picks it up.
âPunk 57? Whatâs it about?â he asks. I can feel my cheeks heating up but try to play it off.
âA romance story. A girl and a boy have been writing letters for years but theyâve never seen each other. They accidentally meet but only he recognizes her. Something happens but long story short, he stops answering her. Then he goes to her school to find out sheâs not the girl he thought he knew so now heâs being mean to her. Itâs enemies to lovers, I guess,â I ramble, trying to keep it short. I tend to lose myself when I speak about books and end up annoying whoever Iâm talking to. I always catch myself when my mom and dad reach for their wine.
âSounds good,â Elija tells me, seeming completely unbothered. He studies me and I know my cheeks heat up further. That makes him smirk. âTell me, is there smut in this?â he asks.
âYou know that word?â I ask. Seriously, I thought only book people understood.
âIâll take that as a yes. Well, well, I really didnât think you were the type,â he teases me. At least he no longer seems upset now that heâs torturing me.
âWhatever. Itâs a really good book,â I say in my defense. When Elija starts flipping through the pages, trying to open an annotated page, my heartbeat picks up. I reach over to grab the book from him but heâs too fast. He pulls it away with a chuckle so I scoot closer. Since heâs lying and Iâm sitting, I should be able to get my book back. I reach over Elija, trying to get it but I end up losing my balance.
My hand drops to the mattress at the guyâs side to support myself. When he laughs again, I turn to look at him. My cheeks heat up as I realize weâre way too close. Like, about to hug or kiss kind of close. I mean to pull away before he notices and an awkward moment happens but Iâm too slow.
Elija opens his eyes and looks at me, his laugh breaking off. Iâm hyper-aware of his reaction, noting the slight arch of his eyebrows, the narrowing of his eyes, and the pink tint reaching up his neck. When my attention returns to his dark eyes, I see him scanning me in the same way. When his gaze drops to my lips, I practically feel my heartbeat quickening.
Then his tongue darts out slightly to wet his bottom lip and I think, this is it. Before I can close the distance between us, some sense returns, and I pull back instead.
What am I doing? How could I just forget about Joe like that? Even though Iâm not sure what they are, Elijaâs obviously off-limits.
Trying to defuse the awkward tension in the room, I chuckle lightly. The sound is too breathy but weâre going to ignore that. âSo, howâs it going with Joe?â I ask. Then I mentally headbutt me because Iâm being so transparent.
Elija raises himself up on his arms and looks at me all serious. âFlorence, thereâs nothing between her and me,â he tells me.
Since weâre already talking about this, I decide to speak my mind for once. âIt didnât look that way when you guys hung out. Or when she kissed you.â
âThe night she and Miley hung out with us, I talked to her about you. I was feeling bad for having fled out of your tent without a word and she tried to distract me. I wanted her opinion and I thought we might be friends. And I hated that she kissed me, Florence,â he insists. He was talking to her about me? God, itâs so tempting to believe him but what if Iâm just being naïve?
âWhat about the party?â I ask, looking anywhere but him.
âI told her to stay away from me, I swear.â His hand gently cups my face before he goes on. âIt really wasnât her I wanted to kiss after the last challenge,â he adds.
Oh.
Oh!
This is happening. Did he just say what I think he did? He canât have meant anything else.
âFlorence? Are you talking to anyone in there?â my momâs voice breaks me out of my trance. I jump and get off the bed as if my ass had caught fire. âWhyâs the door locked?â she adds, yelling against the wood.
âJust on the phone, mom,â I tell her while trying to make Elija understand he needs to hide. Thankfully, he catches on quickly and hurries to get beneath my bed. No points for creativity but my parents have never searched my room and I doubt theyâll start now.
âOpen the door, Florence.â I can always tell Iâm in trouble when she uses my full name. Still, I unlock the door and let her enter my room.
âWho were you on the phone with?â my mother asks while looking around my room skeptically.
âA classmate, she had a question about our history homework,â I lie smoothly. Thatâs the thing with strict parents, it teaches you to be a good liar. Iâm not proud of it.
âMh. I could have sworn I heard a male voice. And whatâs that smell? It smells like cologne.â Damn that woman and her good nose.
âMom, I think Iâd know if I had a guy in my room. Maybe Lynnâs voice just sounds masculine to you or perhaps youâve mistaken it for the songs Iâm listening to. As for the scent, I tried a new perfume but I guess it doesnât suit me.â I say all that with a smile plastered on my lips and my motherâs stance relaxes.
âMy mistake. Well, sleep now, honey. You look tired.â She smiles and leaves and I blow out a breath as soon as Iâve closed the door.
âThat was way too close. Letâs not talk anymore. Are you tired?â I ask Elija as he crawls from beneath my bed. Thatâs certainly not an image I thought Iâd ever see.
âSure, I could sleep. But I donât want to get you into trouble so I can just go,â he tells me.
âAre you sure? Itâs really no big deal if you need a place to stay,â I assure him. I wouldnât mind him staying but he should do whatever he wants to.
Eija tells me he really doesnât want to bother me further and thanks me again. Then he puts his shoes on and climbs back out of my window but not before telling me, âI think you look beautiful.â Then heâs gone, leaving me to my racing thought for the rest of the night.